


What a Boy Wants

by AuroraExecution



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aurors, Birthday, Cult, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Hogwarts, Press and Tabloids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 14:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraExecution/pseuds/AuroraExecution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Draco does not want a present, the Prophet makes up wild stories, and there is a cult. </p>
            </blockquote>





	What a Boy Wants

**Author's Note:**

> Draco Birthday Fic. 

On the 30th of May, Draco gave an ultimatum.

“You are not allowed to buy me anything for my birthday, Potter,” he stated quite clearly.

“But…why?” Harry replied, confused. “It’s your birthday, and you _like_ being spoiled, right?”

“That’s not the point. Oh, and you’re not allowed to make me something idiotic either.”

“I have the money, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No!” Draco lost his patience. “I _know_ you have a vault full of galleons, but that’s not the _point_. I don’t want a birthday present.”

Harry sighed. Sometimes dating Draco wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Yes, Draco was sexy, and yes, the, _ahem_ , benefits were brilliant, and Draco could be rather caring in his way from time to time. But attempting to accustom himself to Draco’s whims was a trial in and of itself.

“There can’t possibly be _nothing_ that you want,” was all Harry said.

* * *

On the 31st of May, an assignment came down to the Potter-Malfoy office, requiring the presence of the Auror partners at the next meeting of a possible dark cult, which happened to be occurring on June 3rd. They were to infiltrate the cult and find sufficient proof for a warrant.

“Another cult?” asked Draco, “Why are there so many of those nowadays?”

Harry shrugged. “Something’s got to take in the people who can’t be Death Eaters anymore?”

“Don’t be an arse, Harry.” Harry ignored him.

“Hopefully we’ll get through in a day. I’d hate to celebrate your birthday in the middle of fighting an evil cult.”

“I already told you I don’t want a present, Potter.”

“Yes, but when do I ever listen to _you_ , Malfoy?”

* * *

On the 1st of June, the Prophet reported that Harry Potter was _certainly_ going to propose _this_ time to his longtime lover. It would, of course, happen sometime in the next week, possibly at a romantic dinner in what was currently the most popular proposal restaurant of the wizarding world. This was followed by speculation on the wedding itself, regardless of its theoretical state.

“She’ll look stunning in pink,” Draco read gravely off the paper as he picked it up from the dining table. “Maybe with some magically-infused diamonds, or even just flowers, as accessories.”

“Still in denial about the part where I live with you?” Harry asked, coming up behind Draco.

“No, no. Apparently, _we_ are just flatmates. You are obviously right about to propose to Ginny Weasley, who you’ve been dating for years,” Draco deadpanned.

“Of course,” answered Harry with a roll of the eyes, before he looked down at the article. “Oh, Merlin, that picture’s so _old_. How does the lack of new photographs with her _not_ tell them anything? Sometimes I think the gossip rags are smarter than the Prophet.”

“That’s because they are,” Draco told him, chewing on a bit of bacon. “At least _they_ occasionally run the is-the-Savior-gay articles.”

“Yes, but most of them try to pair me off with Ron, or Neville, or Seamus or someone. Which, honestly, is weird.”

Draco smirked. “You don’t think it’s hot?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Now who’s being an arse?”

* * *

On the 2nd of June, Draco gave his usual pre-assignment pep talk.

“Now, Potter. Let me repeat this once more so you actually get it into your scrawny, malnourished brain this time. Do not try to save me. Do not push me out of the way of things, including, but not limited to, hexes, curses, projectiles, moving people, and flying objects. Do not use yourself as some sort of sacrificial lamb in any misguided attempt to keep me from imprisonment, or torture, or anything else. And do not, for the last time, try to shove me behind you for whatever reason unless I tell you to.”

Harry scoffed at him. “Well, let me repeat: I’m _going_ to try to keep my _partner_ out of harm’s way. If you’re in trouble, I _will_ , in fact, try my best to help you. And I will stop pushing you behind me the day you stop trying to stand in front of me.”

Draco shut him up using his usual snogging technique.

* * *

On the 3rd of June, the Night Blood cult convened at a druid ring in Wiltshire, where they proceeded with some quite dark and unpleasant rituals. A Glamoured and Disillusioned Draco winced from his place behind a megalith, obviously knowing exactly what the intended results were. Harry placed a hand on his arm.

Fifteen minutes after the start of the ritual, a humming sound started, and Draco began to twitch. “Draco, what’s wrong?” Harry hissed at him.

“Be…fine…” Draco gritted out through his teeth. The twitching grew more violent. “Dark…spell…”

Harry stared between Draco and the cult. “What does it do?” he demanded of Draco.

“Like…crucio…only…for pure…bloods…”

Without a second thought, Harry charged into the ring.

* * *

On the 4th of June, Draco and Harry found themselves locked in a musty-smelling room. “Cellar?” Draco asked groggily as he woke.

“Are you feeling any better?” Harry replied.

“I’m not the one who jumped in the middle of all of those dark wizards.”

“I’m not the one who was hit by an exclusively-pureblood curse.”

“Oh, shut it. I’m not the idiot here. Did you manage to contact anyone at least?”

“Er…” Harry flushed. “I tried to activate the alarm spell, but I was…er…sidetracked.”

“You’re seriously telling me no one knows we’re in trouble?”

“I think they’ll figure it out when we don’t go to work today…”

“Oh, brilliant. Now what?”

“You’re getting annoyed with _me_?”

“Yes! You keep doing shite like this because you don’t _think_!”

They were silent for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

“Draco?”

“What, Harry?” snapped Draco in irritation. “It’s the middle of the night. Can I sleep?”

“Just shut up for a second, you berk, and let me talk.”

“Fine, but it’s not my problem if I fall asleep halfway through.”

“It’s just that…I’m sorry if you’re annoyed with me, but I wasn’t going to let you suffer like that. And, well, it’s probably coming on midnight, so it should be your birthday soon, and I wish you didn’t have to start it in a place like this, but I promise I’ll make it up to you when we get out. And I know you don’t want anything, and I don’t know why, but I’d feel like a tool if I don’t do _anything_ for you, so can I at _least_ take you to dinner or something, please?”

A chuckle slipped through Draco’s lips, followed by another, and another, and suddenly they were both laughing insanely and holding on to each other. It took several minutes for them to quiet down again.

“Harry?”

“Mmm?”

“Could you just…take the day off?”

“Eh?”

“I mean, could we just stay at home and, you know, just…”

“Yeah. That would be nice.”

* * *

On the 6th of June, in the wee hours of the morning, a special team from the Aurors made their way into an old house in Wiltshire, where they arrested a large group of wizards and witches for participating in illegal activities and imprisoning Aurors, and then rescued two of their own (who had _not_ been snogging, thank you very much) from a cellar.

After the routine medical checkups, debriefing, and getting yelled at by their superior, Aurors Potter and Malfoy were allowed to go home.

* * *

On the 7th of June, Harry Potter did not, in fact, propose to Ginny Weasley, who was on the other side of the isle playing Quidditch. He did, however, request the day off with his partner due to their recent traumatic experience.

There was no giving of presents. There was, however, snogging (among other things).

One Draco Malfoy was decidedly satisfied.


End file.
